Connect
by Plum'oh
Summary: FEH. Roy looks at her, and wishes he could speak to her.


**Rating:** K

 **Summary:** Roy looks at her, and wishes he could speak to her.

 **Disclaimer:** The characters belong to Nintendo, Intelligent Systems.

Hello hello

I legit screamed when Ninian was announced but despite pouring my soul into the summons I couldn't get her, and I still haven't gotten Roy either. So I wrote something about them, because this family gives me so much feels ;v;

Enjoy!

* * *

 **One-shot:** Connect

Roy is transfixed by her. She's beautiful, elegant in her steps and gentle in her voice, embodying the perfect lady who has nonetheless the streak of a warrior. Along with Olivia and Azura, she gives strength to them thanks to her dance; while Olivia also dances, hers aren't exactly the same. Olivia has the vigor of a real performer, of someone who has devoted their life to this art. Hers are like a prayer directly coming from the Gods themselves, inviting the warriors who witness such sight to continue onward without worrying about being injured. Her dance gives strength. She gives hope. She is soothing.

Roy swallows as his mother averts her eyes from him.

It hurts. He was too young to properly remember her, he was maybe four or five, but all the tales his father told, all the praise the Pheraean gladly awarded her, all the soft lullabies integrated in his mind are enough to convince him she is a wonderful woman. Aunt Rebecca also spoke fondly of her, Uncle Hector said she was one of the bravest women he's known, and Aunt Lyn considered her one of her closest friends.

Father wished every day she were with them.

And now that they are reunited, albeit from different timelines, why can't they hold a conversation, let alone maintain eye contact? Roy is confused, disheartened.

He sighs, scrubbing at his eyes. He must gather the courage to go to her; he doubts she will come to him on her own accord, given the way she seems to avoid him despite the fact he constantly keeps an eye her. Roy doesn't want her to get hurt during the multiple battles they are forced into. He trusts his father, of course, but sometimes the summoner Kiran puts them in different groups to optimize the strategies. As the former general of the Lycian Alliance, Roy can understand this train of thought, but his feelings tell him to have a chat with Kiran because why should his parents be separated again?

"Lord Elroy, is something the matter?"

Roy whirls around, startled, and comes face to face with Frederick, Prince Chrom's knight and an expert at wielding the axe.

"Oh, don't worry about it," Roy replies. "And please, call me Roy. 'Elroy' sounds too formal, we are all together as a group in this war."

"Very well, Lord Roy." Frederick easily agrees. Roy wonders how another country's knight can obey this simple task, when it had taken several weeks of insistence for Wolt to finally comply. "I see you are watching Lady Ninian. I heard she is... your mother?"

"Yes. I haven't known her long before she passed away."

"It is unfortunate. Children shouldn't suffer the loss of a parent."

Roy notices the way Frederick's voice tries not to sound resigned. He doesn't question it.

"Are you not going to speak with her? I believe your father has shown great interest in organizing a meeting between you."

He glances at Ninian, then looks at Roy.

"I also overheard Lady Lyndis saying Lady Ninian did wish to meet you."

Roy shoots Frederick an incredulous look, not bothering to cover his disbelief. Frederick raises an eyebrow.

"Is it that surprising?"

"She has been avoiding me," Roy confesses with a sigh. "The only logical conclusion I came with is that she doesn't show any interest in speaking with an older version of her son."

"Lord Roy, every parent wants to reconnect with their children."

Roy doesn't acknowledge this statement with words, and simply nods, pensive.

* * *

The worst thing that comes with the realization of his lineage is that now, whenever he stumbles upon a sacred weapon, Roy can't help but flinch. Falchion and the tome of Naga, mainly, but back home he would spar with someone wielding a _wyrmslayer_ and he would feel uncomfortable. That has never happened before he learned his mother was half-dragon. He has barely manifested some ice magic, and still doesn't know if he can turn into a dragon himself, but this is becoming extremely irritating. His instincts prickle at any threat directed toward dragons (he's only quarter dragon, for heaven's sake).

The Binding Blade, on the other hand, seems perfectly fine at the idea of being wielded by a being it was supposed to slay. Roy sometimes wonders when the sword is going to reject him.

"Stop frowning so much, you are going to look even older than you are," Lilina teases.

"Well, at least people won't judge me upon seeing my height," Roy retorts with a grin.

He has always thought it was unfair how tall his father is, and how small he is. Eliwood chuckled at his comment, and said that at his age he wasn't as bulky as his son, and Roy felt a bit better.

"Being small isn't something bad," Lilina says. "And we are still growing, maybe you are going to be even taller than my father."

"I doubt it, Uncle Hector is... massive."

They both laugh at the ridiculous idea. Lilina has a way with words different than his, and he can't list all the times it has been refreshing to hear her kind, relaxing words in difficult situations. She's a support he can't afford to lose, but she's also the one who knows him best, which means it's not surprising when she sobers up and asks, in a calm and prompting voice, what he's thinking about. Roy scratches the back of his neck.

"This isn't important. Nothing out of the ordinary, I mean."

"You keep saying that, but I worry you won't be able to move on. I know how lost in thoughts you can be, so sharing what is burdening you isn't a bad idea."

Lilina, along with Wolt, has immediately accepted the circumstances surrounding him, so it wouldn't be fair if he decides not to tell her his worries. But Roy can't help thinking he's being irrational, borderline paranoid to imagine the worst in something so simple in wielding a weapon. That, and his mother. He still hasn't come with a solution since the talk with Frederick.

"I just... need to train with the Binding Blade a bit more often, I think," he sighs. "We were supposed to seal it again after the war so I didn't take the time to fully master it, but when I arrived here it was the sword entrusted to me."

"You are skilled with a sword, this shouldn't pose a real problem," Lilina asserts, confused.

"Yes, but what if... what if it reacts badly one day?"

Lilina stays silent. Roy keeps his gaze on the ground, not daring to read what is passing through Lilina's eyes.

"You are a good person, Roy," she finally declares. "The kindest person I've known, most likely. There is no reason why the Binding Blade would hurt you."

"But I—"

"This doesn't change anything, because you are you. You are Roy. Having a different kind of blood flowing in your body doesn't define your actions, and the sword should know it."

Roy doesn't reply right away. Lilina's words sink in, reaching his mind and making the gears whir while he tries to see to what extent his friend is right. It's true that realizing his lineage doesn't suddenly change the core of what makes him _him_ , and if anything, sacred weapons are more apt at judging if someone is worthy enough to wield them.

Lilina puts a hand on his shoulder, and smiles brightly at him.

"If you still have doubts, talk to your mother," she gently suggests. "I know you want to, and it gives you a reason to approach her. I've spoken to Lady Ninian a few times—"

"You spoke to her?!" Roy can't repress the squawk that escapes him, and that makes Lilina giggle.

"Don't be so surprised, I was curious myself. She is every bit the woman Uncle Eliwood described. You needn't worry. There isn't anything to be worried about in the first place."

Roy is convinced that this was Lilina's initial intent for coming to him, and while he's a bit irritated that everyone is trying to push him into his mother's arms, he knows they mean well. That doesn't prevent him from loudly sighing, uncharacteristically him, but he nods. Lilina beams at him.

"Uncle Eliwood will be happy to hear that. Maybe you three will be able to converse tomorrow. It's going to be all right, Roy."

She moves her hand from his shoulder to his back, and rubs slow circles. Roy offers her a tentative smile, and tries not to cower when he feels a pair of red eyes on him.

Tomorrow is the day.

* * *

It's always easier said than done. Early in the morning, they're caught in a skirmish and Kiran has mobilized almost the whole army to disperse the enemies. They are around forty-five people, including the royal siblings and the commander, so taking care of a small group of soldiers isn't a tedious task. It is, however, when there are snipers hidden in trees and powerful mages waiting to strike behind a wall of horsemen. They are swift and precise in their movements, hitting their targets at the most unexpected moment and dealing damage beyond what they had assessed.

Roy swears under his breath as an arrow embeds itself in his right leg, cutting his step in his momentum. He falls forward, knees scraping against the ground and he fumbles with the Binding Blade to get it into the right position—he sees the shadow of a weapon swinging above his head. He turns around, brandishes his sword and blocks the axe, but his current situation doesn't give him any advantage; he feels the raw power the enemy soldier pushes into his axe, definitely ready to break his sword. Roy has encountered enough bandits and axe wielders to recognize this technique, so he slightly releases the pressure, taking the soldier off guard, and he thrusts his sword into the open side. Blood spills all over him, forming a gross puddle on the ground (not that he hasn't seen worst), and he scrambles back, letting the body drop. He hisses when he moves his right leg, and just then he hears his father approach, quickly dismounting.

"Roy, are you hurt?" he asks, worry dripping from his voice.

"I'm fine, Father," Roy answers, a shuddering breath leaving his throat. "Just a minor injury, nothing I haven't dealt with."

Eliwood frowns, eyeing critically the arrow, hands hovering, unsure of what to do. He looks at his son.

"I'll call a healer, I saw Maria not too far away. Stay here, alright? I will be right back."

His hand instinctively finds Roy's head to ruffle his hair, and the young man can't help but smile despite thinking he's too old for this kind of gesture. Coming from a younger version of his father gives him a warm feeling though, reminding him of the times before the war, before his father fell ill. It seems so far away, when it has only been a few years ago.

He can tell the fight is settling. There are less enemies and the heroes are checking on each other in unhurried steps, so it's safe to assume everything is under control. Maria comes and kneels down, carefully pulling the arrow out to heal the injury. Roy clenches his teeth during the whole process; he's not unfamiliar with arrows, but nobody can get used to this pain of having a piece of metal twisting the inside of their skin. He can get more resilient, but not used to it.

"All good," Maria announces.

"Thank you."

Maria smiles at him, all gentle and innocent, before going to check on the others. Roy gets up, slightly winces at the lingering pain, but it's only a faint bothering now that the injury is healed. He sees Lilina gathering some tomes from fallen enemy mages (Kiran said it's always useful to pick up some 'rewards'), Aunt Lyndis supporting Aunt Florina, Uncle Hector wiping the blood off the Armads.

Then his gaze lands on his mother, who is dusting her dress and pocketing her dragonstone, unharmed and looking relieved. She loathes war and fighting as much as his father, which makes Roy realize that he must have gotten the same sentiment from the both of them.

He thinks about the conversation he had with Frederick, then Lilina's nudging, and decides this is as good an opportunity as any, and strides towards Ninian.

"Is everything all right?" he asks, in lieu of addressing her by name.

"Oh!" Ninian looks startled, but when she locks eyes with Roy her stance softens, despite seemingly wanting to duck her head. "I'm alright, thank you. Are you... ?"

"Maria healed me, I'm fine. I'm glad you are unhurt."

In the distance he can hear Anna's chattering and Prince Alfonse's orders. He awkwardly shifts on his feet, careful not to put too much pressure on his bad leg, eyes searching for any indication of what to do next. Ninian looks as nervous as he is, which is kind of consoling albeit a bit more stressful.

"I... I'm sorry, Roy," she finally breathes, her fingers fiddling with her stole. "I have been unfair to you, and I appeared as a terrible person. I'm sorry."

Roy's reply flies out of his mouth at once.

"No, you don't have anything to apologize for, Mother!" And he promptly shrinks on himself, self-conscious at how he called her. "I mean—I should have asked you first if you were... alright with that..."

"It's fine Roy, don't worry." Ninian shakes her head, the beginning of a smile blossoming on her lips. "It makes me... happy. I truly feared you wouldn't recognize me, as you are only an infant in my world..."

She speaks as if she knows she's going to die. Roy doesn't know how to feel about that, so he opts for reassuring her and stay away from the topic.

"It's true I don't remember much, but your kindness and your voice are unmistakable."

He remembers songs that helped him falling asleep, the guidance of a loving hand, the particular warmth coming from a mother. His father also talked about Ninian on a daily basis, so that Pherae doesn't forget her. (It might as well be because _he_ didn't want to forget her.)

And now Roy can see why his father was so enticed by his wife. He wishes she could have lived longer, for him to know her and for his father to smile without sadness.

"Father's tales were helpful as well, in order for me to have something to associate with you."

"I'm glad," Ninian says, now a full blissful smile on her face.

She takes a step forward, lifts one arm, never tearing her gaze away, not this time.

"Would you... embrace your mother?"

And Roy can't say no, can't even utter anything as he launches himself into his mother's open arms, and holds her tight. He feels her arms enfold him around his shoulders, before a hand rests at the back of his head. She's small, barely taller than he is, but he knows she is strong and brave, not fragile or weak.

"You've grown so well, my little boy," she whispers, stroking his hair.

"Mother..."

"I hope you can forgive your mother for leaving so soon. I wish I could have stayed for you and Lord Eliwood."

"This isn't your fault. There is nothing to forgive."

He can't hold her accountable for something that she wasn't responsible for. He was told illness took her away; fighting against yourself proves to be arduous, and honorable. Not everyone could win this battle, and unfortunately his mother was among these people.

Her embrace is as gentle as firm, as if she is trying to absorb the feeling in her. Roy is doing something similar, thinking she might disappear if he doesn't commit everything to memory—her scent, her touch, her aura. He has often hugged his father as a boy, and hugging his mother now throws him back to those days. He is at peace. He likes this appeasing presence. This isn't like his father's calming reassurance, or Lilina's tranquil support.

This is his mother, sweet and tender.

"I will protect you while we are here, Mother," Roy declares. "Even if this is for a short period of time."

"Oh, Roy. I can fight too, so you don't need to worry about me."

Ninian breaks the embrace, looks at Roy's face and smiles.

"I couldn't reveal my secret back when I was traveling with your father. They had to protect me. Now I can return the favor."

Roy can't help staring at her.

"But you were helping them with your dances, this is a way to fight in your own way."

"Even though, more often than I can recall I felt like a burden to them."

Roy is frowning, but he supposes his mother has enough power to battle at their side, and dance when she can—he tries not to think about her illness, if she's already under its effects. But worrying is only natural, everyone worries about their loved ones' safety. She probably thinks about Father during a battle, in the same way he thinks about them.

"I will still look out for you," he asserts. "I can't let Father bear this weight alone."

His mother takes his hand and squeezes. Roy shoots her a confused look, before her determined expression and the fervor in her voice.

"Roy, you are a good person, and I'm really proud of what you have become," she says. "I can't tell you what to do, and what not to do... but you are still my son, and as a mother, it is also my duty to protect you. So don't push yourself too hard. Let us treat you like a child, and not like a soldier, alright? This army is big enough for us all to be safe."

She gently caresses his cheek, a gesture that is filled with love, and Roy can perfectly feel how relaxed and comfortable Ninian is, after a conversation that was way overdue. It's just in her nature to be so caring, so attentive to people surrounding her. So he nods, partly to put her mind at ease, and partly because, despite everything, he wants to spend time with his parents like any other child, without ranks and façades to maintain. They're still fighting in a war, and they can't let down their guard, but this is a lifetime opportunity and Roy will be damned if he didn't take it and own it.

"I guess we should simply stay together from now on?" he suggests, a playful but content smile on his face.

"It's an excellent idea," Ninian agrees with the same sentiment.

They still have much to discuss, but for now they are just a son and a mother, reunited after too long a time.

When they reach the castle, Eliwood sees them and tightly wraps them into a hug, and Roy laughs, just as happy as his father, and as relieved as his mother.

* * *

I hate mounted enemies in this game, their range is stupidly big...

Anyway, I hope you liked it! I might write another piece accompanying this one, when I find the time. :) Thank you for reading!


End file.
